by Burnett, May
He understood the message: this is who I am, for better or worse. Unlike lesser women, Milla had to be taken on her own terms.
As he enjoyed the food Barnaby’s eyes caressed her soft curves, her luminous eyes, the hair softly gleaming in the candles’ light. No, Milla would not chase him off with shocking opinions, or subtle challenges.
As she had said herself, there was unfinished business between them.
Chapter 27
Milla leaned back in the barouche after taking up Monsieur Lambert. He sat beside her on the cushioned bench, his back stiff.
“You do not have your companion with you today, Lady Fenton?”
Her escort’s uneasy expression amused Milla. “Remember that I am a widow, not some young girl who could easily be compromised. You are quite safe from me, Sir.”
“I never doubted it, Madame. I hardly slept last night. What you have told me of this fiendish plot did not go out of my head.”
“I take it that Kepler has tried to obtain money from you? I distinctly heard Doktor Rabenstein order you to hand over whatever he asked for a good cause, to believe anything he said, and not pose any questions.”
“He did? That explains much.” The young man sighed. “But money means little to me. It is the other thing – the secret – that concerns me more.”
“I am trying to stop these crooks. I would appreciate learning exactly how they went about it in your case, how they used their advantage and illicit knowledge.” Seeing him hesitate, Milla described the Peruvian mine sale and the proposed purchase of the Meybrinck estate. “I expect there will be some trickery involved, so that buyer and seller will afterwards fight each other at law, while Kepler and Rabenstein keep all the money.”
“They should be arrested before they can do any more harm. Who knows how many lives they have carelessly destroyed, how many people may have shot themselves, ruined by such machinations!”
“I hope nobody has killed themselves over their actions, but it might happen, I suppose. What did they try with you?”
Her confidences had successfully loosened his tongue. “Kepler presented a humanitarian scheme to me, a fund to provide education and small dowries to illegitimate, abandoned children.”
“Oh. I wish I could believe that a single gulden would actually go to such a benevolent purpose. Did you give him money already?”
“Only a couple of thousand so far. It hardly matters.”
He obviously had no idea how much that sum would matter to the average citizen. “I see. Do you still feel compelled to contribute to this fund, the next time Kepler wants money, or will you now be able to resist?”
He was silent for a few moments. “I still feel the urge to give him money,” he stated in a tone of surprise. “How extraordinary.”
“The commands given while you were mesmerised must be extremely powerful. Can you not simply leave? Go back to your home, some place where Kepler cannot easily follow?”
“I have already lingered far longer than I was supposed to. Each time my valet suggested packing and leaving, I countermanded the order.”
“Well, now you know why.”
He looked stricken. “What can be done?”
“I have sent my companion to fetch a specialist, to learn how victims might be freed from commands received under mesmeric influence. If he comes to Regensbad as I hope, I daresay he will not mind having another consultation with you.”
“If I am still here... I am leaving as soon as may be. We have specialists in France, too.”
“Wise of you. You must find somebody whom you trust, and preferably have a witness standing by, who does not succumb.” How that was to be accomplished was not clear to Milla, but since Rabenstein’s assistant had not been mesmerized with the others, there had to be a way to target the effect.
For some minutes, they drove in silence, each deep in thought.
“It is a lovely, sunny day,” Lambert said after a while, with a determined smile, “too bad that we have nothing more cheerful to discuss! Here I am in a carriage with one of the most beautiful ladies I have ever met, and all we can talk of is blackmail and extortion.”
“Remember that you are a married man,” Milla said primly. “I confine my flirting to bona fide suitors.”
“Spoilsport.”
“You seemed more concerned with the secret the doctor discovered, than the money Kepler drew out of you. I supposed that Rabenstein asked his victims for their secrets as extra insurance, in case one of them escapes his clutches and tries to contact the authorities. But perhaps there is more to it than that. Has he tried to use this knowledge against you?”
“Not openly. But I received an anonymous note yesterday, telling me to follow instructions I would soon receive, or I would regret it.”
“You have not received any ‘instructions’ since?”
“Not yet.”
“All the more reason to leave immediately. I don’t like the sound of this. Do you have any theory what sort of instructions they might be?”
“No, but I do have a certain amount of influence in my home country. It could concern almost anything.” He shifted uneasily.
“The Doktor addressed you as Highness. He was aware of your identity.”
“It is not a deep secret. For members of ruling houses, it is common practice to use an alias when travelling outside our country. Anyone who has moved in Parisian high society would instantly recognise me, but they would also respect my desire for anonymity.”
“It is possible that you might still be blackmailed, once you are home in France. The only way to remove the danger is to make a clean breast of your secrets, to whoever has a right to know. But it is up to you.”
His hands clenched. “I am aware that you have little respect for a man in my position. But you can have no notion of the pressures, the obligations that stifle some of us from the moment of birth.”
“You have to do what seems best to you,” Milla said with a shrug. “Personally, I wonder that a woman would consent to marry a man, and bear his children, if he is not willing to publicly acknowledge her. She must be a great deal more long-suffering than I could ever be. But it is none of my business, after all.” The young Frenchman was not so handsome or brilliant that he would easily arouse overwhelming love in any female breast. Compared to Barnaby, he fell far short. But then, it took all kinds to make a world, and even pusillanimous princes might find their Dulcineas. Poor children, though. She hoped they would not inherit his weakness of character.
***
The Meybrinck estate was even more impressive than Kepler had described it. The house rose three floors high, with a central and two side wings. The stud was nearly as extensive. The estate also reared great numbers of pigs and cattle, with a huge prize steer. It also held a duck pond, a small forest, and a large orchard. A stone-faced steward led them around, and answered questions without volunteering information.
“I am not familiar with local estate values,” Lambert said to Milla in a low-voiced aside, in French, “but the stock alone must be worth close to ten thousand gulden. Fifteen thousand for the whole sounds like an incredible bargain.”
“Yes, too good to be true,” Milla murmured in reply.
After the outdoors and stables, they were shown the elegant reception rooms and library. The private quarters on the higher floors were not to be included, it appeared.
“Have you seen enough, Ma’am, Sir?” the servant asked at last.
“We had hoped to be able to talk with the owner, Frau von Meybrinck,” Milla said. “I have some questions that only she may be able to answer.”
“Madame is not receiving today.”
“Still, could you ask if she’s willing to make an exception? It could be very important to her. I promise not to importune her long.”
He hesitated, but was not proof to Milla’s force of will, or perhaps her blue eyes. “Very well, I shall ask – wait here.” The man withdrew, leaving Milla and her escort alone in the drawing room.
Milla estimated that it could easily hold a house concert with an audience of fifty.
“If you are supposed to buy her house and stables, the least the owner can do is meet you personally,” Lambert observed, in French. “I do understand that it might be painful for her.”
“We cannot help Frau von Meybrinck unless we know exactly how she is being manipulated.”
“You want to help her?”
“Of course. This is all part of my campaign to expose and confound those scoundrels, Rabenstein und Kepler.”
“It should be interesting to see what she has to tell us,” he conceded.
A few minutes later they were conducted up a flight of carpeted marble stairs with carved banisters, towards a spacious sitting room on the first floor, overlooking the drive.
Frau von Meybrinck was dressed in black bombazine, though her widowhood was of long standing – perhaps she was mourning the impending loss of her home. Black went well with her silver-white hair, of course, and the silver tip of her ebony cane.
“Lady Fenton, Monsieur Lambert, I did not realise that it was you who were looking at the place. Welcome.” She spoke with difficulty, her back very straight.
Milla smiled at her. “Thank you for agreeing to receive us, Madame.”
“We can talk French,” Frau von Meybrinck offered, turning to Lambert. “I heard a rumour of your true identity, Monsieur – I gather you don’t want to use your title?”
“Today I am simply Monsieur Lambert. This must be difficult for you, Madame. We do not want to add to your burdens, but Lady Fenton and I would like to understand what circumstances are forcing you to sell an estate that has clearly been in your family for generations. Since my own line has suffered exile and worse, I hate seeing any noblewoman lose her patrimony. Is there anything we can do to help, to prevent the sale?”
She regarded them with astonishment. “This is not what I expected. I thought you wanted to depress the asking price, or discuss the stud book.”
“The price we were told is already very low,” Milla said. “There may be some mistake, and whenever I buy a property I always make a point of talking to the owner directly. If this were my estate, I would not sell it for a penny less than thirty thousand gulden. Yet Major Kepler told us that it was available for fifteen thousand, quickly and discreetly.”
“Fifteen thousand!” the old lady exclaimed. “I should think not!”
Milla and Lambert exchanged puzzled glances.
“May I ask exactly what role Major Kepler plays in all this?” Milla asked.
“He really told you the estate was to be sold for fifteen thousand? Oh God, can it be he told the same to the other interested parties? Will even one of them be willing to pay a fair price?” The old lady’s eyes held a suspicious sheen, though no tear emerged. She twisted the lace-edged handkerchief in her wrinkled hands. “I don’t know anything anymore! My poor parents will be turning in their graves.”
“Somebody is playing a double game,” Milla said softly, “but we should be able to straighten it out, I hope. I promise you my discretion, Madame. Please tell us why you are selling at all; against your will, I would bet.”
“And you would win your bet. It certainly never was my intention – I was going to leave the estate to my great-nephew, my last living relative. But I am the owner in my own right, and do have the right to dispose of it, if that is what worries you. It was my dowry, and belonged to my father and grandfather before me.”
“It seems a prosperous enough place, and very well-managed,” Lambert said. “Do you have debts that oblige you to sell everything? Is there no other way to pay them off?”
The old lady was silent for a long moment. “I am getting so forgetful – I have not offered you refreshments,” she said, to Milla’s frustration. She rang the bell-pull. A manservant appeared, and was ordered to bring a tea urn, bread and cakes.
At least they should be there for long enough to extract some useful information from the old lady.
Once the servant left, Frau von Meybrinck took a deep breath. “In a way it will be a relief to discuss this – I have not been able to talk freely to anyone. Not even my lawyer, who would only scold me for a foolish old woman. Contrary to what you may think, the estate is prosperous and profitable, and I have some funds invested, too. I never got into debt, never thought to do so. The very idea is abhorrent. That is why this so strange… you may not even believe what happened. I cannot believe it myself.”
“Try us,” Milla invited. “Perhaps we can puzzle it out if we put our heads together.”
“Did you by any chance try the Mental Water Treatment?” Lambert asked.
The widow shook her head at him. “Certainly not. What does that have to say to anything? No, it is a document I signed, but cannot remember signing. Yet the signature is my own, even I cannot tell it apart.”
“There are good forgers,” Milla suggested, and Lambert nodded. “What kind of document is it?”
“A promissory note, for the sum of twenty-five thousand gulden. It seems I borrowed this sum from Major Kepler, but I cannot for the life of me recall when I did so, or why, or what I did with the money.”
“He came to you for payment?”
“Yes, he called here, and asked, in what was supposed to be a tactful way, when I would be able to pay the debt. At first I did not believe him, but he showed me the document. Nobody would take it for a forgery… my handwriting is very distinctive. As I saw it, I was overcome with the conviction that I had indeed signed the note, though I could not, and still cannot, remember the circumstances.”
“It is a large sum,” Milla said. “So Kepler himself is your creditor? And it is he who is sending me and other people here, to buy the estate for a mere fifteen thousand?”
“I understand why he would want me to sell, but not at such a ridiculous price.” Frau von Meybrinck shook her head. “It does not make any sense.”
“You should have challenged the note, talked to your lawyer.”
“But, if it is my signature… and I do sometimes forget things lately, but never yet such an important detail as where I put twenty-five thousand gulden.”
Milla felt unwonted pity at the shamefaced expression on the old lady’s features. She did not want to admit what she saw as the infirmity of age, was trying to maintain her dignity and independence. How wicked to take advantage of her lack of family, her self-doubt!
“Have you ever met a Doktor Rabenstein, who works at the Regensbad spa?” she asked.
“I have heard of him, but that is all. I have my own doctor, who may be old-fashioned, but has my trust.”
“Have you spoken to any other prospective buyers?”
“No, and I only decided to see you, Lady Fenton, because we have met before. This is painful for me. I told my steward to show interested parties around. Kepler promised me he would arrange all about the sale, I merely needed to sign the contract.”
“But,” Milla could hardly believe it, “his interests and yours are hardly aligned in this matter, Frau von Meybrinck. You must be sure that the price is fair, that you can pay off the supposed debt and are left with enough to support yourself.”
“I took it for granted that he would see to it a fair price was negotiated.”
“It also worries me that the Major told me I was the only person to know of the sale, that it had to be discreet and quick, within the week. Yet you say that others have inspected the estate, as well. Can it be that Kepler told several people about this impending sale, and that each believes he is the only buyer?”
“But – but – I would not sell to more than one. That would be dishonest,” the old lady protested, her eyes wide. At least she no longer was on the brink of tears.
“Kepler has already proved he can get you to sign documents you do not wish to sign,” Milla said. “His confederate, Doktor Rabenstein, is a skilled and unscrupulous mesmerist. I believe they induced you to sign the promissory note without paying over a cent of the capital, and left yo
u with the conviction that it was indeed your signature, and that you should follow Major Kepler’s advice. If so, they can also make you sign more than one bill of sale.”
“But the duped buyers would sue me!” The old lady’s hands trembled. She clutched at her cane for support. “My good name would be ruined!”
“Indubitably, and in the meantime Kepler would keep everybody’s payments. It is much easier to find two or three buyers at a dramatically low price, than one at fair value.”
“If true, that would be diabolical,” their hostess said, calming herself with a visible effort. “Have you any reason to suspect Major Kepler of such villainy?”
“He bilked me of two thousand gulden, for a charity that I strongly suspect does not exist,” Lambert told the old lady.
Before Milla could add to this, two maids entered with their tea and refreshments. Until everybody was served the hot beverage in cups of delicately painted porcelain, as well as an assortment of cakes or bread and butter, the conversation was interrupted. All three of them looked thoughtful as they took their first sips.
“Kepler’s father was a professional swindler,” Milla said once the servants were gone. “I have it straight from someone who used to know the family long ago. I also know for a fact that he co-operates with this mesmerist. When I told some ladies that the Mental Water Treatment had given me bad dreams, Kepler was furious, and asked me to retract.”
“Prurient dreams, was what I heard,” the old lady said.
Milla shrugged. “In reality, I sleep perfectly well. I was only trying to warn other ladies away from a very dangerous trap. Kepler practically ordered me to persuade a Mrs. Rainer to undergo it, for reasons that escape me.”
“Not Walther Rainer’s wife, by any chance?”
“I don’t know her husband’s name. But we are getting from the point. It is highly probable that both you and your prospective buyers are designated victims in a complicated and highly lucrative swindle. That you cannot remember signing the note, or receiving the money you supposedly owe, is proof enough.”